


Fine Ladies, Dancing

by Kiraly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Kissing, partially post-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigrun and Tuuri bond over some illustrations in an Old-World book. After the expedition, they find some time for a reprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Ladies, Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



> I meant for this to be short enough to fit on a postcard, but it got away from me. I sent it anyway, and now that it's reached its destination I can finally post it here! Thanks again to Elleth for championing lady characters and letting me go on and on about my Tuuri feels when needed. ^_^

Tuuri leaned back from the desk and stretched. “Oof. I think I’m going to have to be done for the day, it’s getting hard to focus.”

“Can’t say that I blame you, Fuzzy-head,” Sigrun said. She and Emil were back early from hunting books, and the captain had been hanging around the “office” ever since. “Staring at all those words for so long, anyone would get a headache.”

“Well, they aren’t only words,” Tuuri said. She didn’t mention that there might be _other_ reasons she couldn’t focus. “Look, this one has a bunch of pictures. I can’t figure out what’s supposed to be going on though, these Old-World books are so _weird_ sometimes.”

“Let me see.” Sigrun leaned over Tuuri’s shoulder to look and stabbed the page with her finger. “HA! I know what that is!”

“What? What is it?” Tuuri tried to ignore the way Sigrun’s arm pressed into hers and fixed her attention on the illustrations.

“They’re dancing. It’s a weird Old-World dance, of course, but that’s what they’re doing.”

“Oh!” Tuuri knew about dancing—it sounded like fun, with the right partner—but she’d never done it herself. Keuruu was not the kind of place where people had that luxury. Or the fancy clothes. Sighing, Tuuri traced the outline of an impractically large skirt with her finger. “Have you ever seen dancing like this, Sigrun?”

Sigrun chuckled. “Well, not exactly like this—those outfits are straight out of the olden days. But sure, I’ve danced. Doesn’t happen all that often in Dalsnes, since most of us would rather drink and sing and tell stories. But a girl from my old unit married a Danish lady, and they’re big on nostalgia. So they had all kinds of dancing at their wedding, even the old ones hardly anyone remembers.”

“Really?” Tuuri couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “That sounds lovely. I wish I knew how to dance.”

Strong hands caught hers and pulled her out of the chair. “Is that so? Well, come on! It’s not hard.” Sigrun’s eyes twinkled. “What do you say, Short Stuff?”

“Ah—” Tuuri hoped her blush didn’t show too much. It wasn’t fair for Sigrun to be so...so _strong_ and _tall_ and _confident._ Especially since she didn’t seem to notice how it affected Tuuri. _It’s not like she means anything by it,_ Tuuri told herself, _she’s just being nice. It’s only a dance._ So she swallowed hard and tried not to clutch Sigrun’s hands too tightly. “Okay.”

“Great!” Sigrun placed one of Tuuri’s hands on her shoulder and her own newly-freed hand on Tuuri’s waist. She kept Tuuri’s other hand in a firm grip. “Okay, so you have to step light on your feet, like you’re trying to keep from waking up a troll. It’s just three steps repeated over and over. And some turning, I guess...you know what? Just watch my feet.”

Tuuri looked down, glad to have an excuse to hide her flaming face. She did her best to follow Sigrun’s steps— _one-two-three, one-two-three—_ and eventually she started to get the hang of it.

“See? You’re a natural.” Sigrun’s words drew Tuuri’s gaze upwards. The captain was smiling at her, a softer expression than her troll-killing grin. Tuuri did her best to breathe around the fluttering in her chest and smiled back. They were so close together that if it weren’t for the height difference—

“Having fun in here?”

Tuuri squeaked and pulled out of Sigrun’s hold. The captain only snorted and rolled her eyes. “Well, we _were_ before you gave Fuzzy-head a heart attack. I thought you were supposed to fix sick people, not scare them to death.”

Mikkel raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. She looks all right to me. Tuuri, is your heart working properly?”

 _No, and you can stop looking so smug about it._ “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” Mikkel didn’t look convinced, but all he said was, “Well, if my medical skills aren’t needed, then as your cook I’m here to inform you that dinner is ready.”

“Guess we’d better put the dancing on hold, then,” Sigrun said, “wouldn’t want the candle slop to get cold.” She winked at Tuuri and strode out of the tank.

“Yeah...that would be a shame,” Tuuri said. With a regretful look at the dancing book, she followed her captain out.

 

* * *

 

Tuuri smoothed her skirt and tried not to fidget as she waited for the fancy dinner to start. In her nervousness, she’d gotten dressed and ready with almost an hour to spare, and now she had nothing to do except check the mirror every few minutes to make sure she hadn’t messed up her hair. This was supposed to be the big celebration of all their accomplishments, but Tuuri couldn’t help feeling a little sad. Soon, the team would go their separate ways, and it would all be over until next year.

She was doing her third hair check in as many minutes when someone knocked. She opened the door on a heart-stopping vision in black silk.

“Hey, Short Stuff!” Sigrun leaned on the doorframe and let out a low whistle. “Or maybe I should call you ‘ _Hot_ Stuff’ instead, that’s some dress!”

“Ahaha…” Tuuri was sure she was bright red, but it was impossible not to be, with Sigrun standing in front of her looking like _that._ “Y-you’re not so bad yourself,” she managed eventually. Sigrun’s dress was cut narrow to flatter her figure, and the muscles in her arms were even more pronounced without sleeves.

Tuuri almost regretted the full skirt of her own blue dress, until Sigrun grinned and said, “Give us a twirl! I bet that dress is fun to dance in.”

Tuuri spun, laughing a little as the fabric swirled around her legs. “It is fun! I haven’t worn a dress in so long, I forgot what it felt like.” Not to mention she’d never had one this nice. “It’s too bad there won’t be dancing tonight, only dinner.”

Sigrun caught her hand. “No dancing? Says who?” She pulled Tuuri in close and settled their hands in the right positions. “It’d be a shame to waste these outfits on dinner,” Sigrun said. She started in on the dance steps, and Tuuri followed. It was like the time they’d danced in the tank—except now there was only thin, slippery fabric between them, not the thick uniform coats. And when Sigrun kicked the door closed behind her on one of her turns, there was no chance of them being interrupted, either.

“Seems like you remember the steps,” Sigrun murmured. Her breath tickled the top of Tuuri’s head.

“I had a good teacher,” Tuuri replied. She searched for something else to say, words to express everything she felt. So close to Sigrun, near enough to smell the hint of sweat and steel that no amount of flower-scented hotel soap could cover up, language failed her. In the end, all she could say was, “I’ll miss you.”

Sigrun’s steps faltered, but she recovered and said, “Yeah, it’s been a good run. Won’t be the same without...the crew around.”

“That...wasn’t what I meant.” Tuuri took a deep breath. “Of course I’ll be sad not to see Mikkel and Reynir and Emil every day, but...I’ll miss _you._ A lot.” As much as she wanted to stare at the floor, at Sigrun’s feet which were no longer moving, Tuuri forced her gaze upward. “I’ll miss you the most.”

Sigrun smiled, the same tender expression she’d worn all those months ago for their first dance.

“I know, Tuuri.” She untangled their fingers and reached to brush a strand of hair out of Tuuri’s eyes. Her hand lingered. “I’ve known for a while now. And I’m going to miss you too.”

Tuuri stretched up on her toes without thinking. She couldn’t reach—Sigrun was just so _tall—_ but it didn’t matter, because Sigrun leaned down to meet her. Like everything about Sigrun, the kiss was intense, wholehearted and passionate. It sent shivers down Tuuri’s spine and kindled heat in the pit of her stomach. When it ended, she bit back a frustrated sigh.

Sigrun’s face mirrored her disappointment. “I know, I don’t want to stop either.” Her arms wrapped loosely around Tuuri’s shoulders. “But if we don’t stop now...I’m not sure if we _can,_ and we have a dinner to get to, remember? Heroes of the Silent World and all that.”

Tuuri sighed. “We’re always having to wait,” she complained.

“We are,” Sigrun agreed, “but for now...at least we have dancing.” She caught Tuuri’s hand in hers and spun her in a slow circle, then reeled her back in. Tuuri fetched up against Sigrun’s side in a swish of skirts. “Tell you what,” Sigrun said, as Tuuri nestled against her, “I think we can probably squeeze in a little after-dinner dancing, too.”

“Can we?” Tuuri didn’t bother to hide the longing in her voice.

“Sure.” Sigrun slid an arm around Tuuri’s waist and sauntered toward the door. “One last dance. I’ll save it for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Personal headcanon: Sigrun is very deliberate about what she calls people. She almost always uses nicknames for Tuuri...unless she's about to say something extremely important. (I haven't done an analysis of the comic to test this theory, so if I'm wrong, let me enjoy my silly headcanon, please).
> 
> Also, the line from the postcard didn't actually make it into the fic, but it seems like something Sigrun would say, doesn't it?


End file.
